


No Good For You

by Khi0n3



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Elections, Fluff, Gakuen, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:30:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khi0n3/pseuds/Khi0n3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shima Sakon is the new transfer student at Basara Gakuen and he has been dropped into the middle of a war zone. After Toyotmoi Hideyoshi's graduation, the position for student council president has finally opened up, and Ishida Mitsunari will stop at nothing to beat Tokugawa Ieyasu to the punch. His campaign is thrown into disarray when he meets the new transfer student and starts harbouring feelings for him. </p>
<p>Based on the Basara Gakuen Canon</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Good For You

No Good For You

Chapter I: First Day

Sakon sat quietly at his desk picking through the lunch he had so carefully packed earlier that morning. It had only been a few hours earlier that he had been ecstatic to start at Basara Gakuen. Alright. He had been nervous. Any student would be nervous transferring to a new high school mid semester. It wasn’t that late in the semester though, and with any luck, most of the students in his class didn’t know each other that well yet. 

He realized as soon as he walked into the class room at the start of the day how very naive he had been. Before even introducing himself to the teacher, he realized he had literally walked into a war zone, a school in the middle of a conflict. 

The move had occurred when his father had been transferred from an office in Osaka to another in Yokohoma, uprooting their family and his life. After weeks of packing their belongings and moving them to their new home, they had finally settled in and sent Sakon to his new high school. He’d been lucky enough that Basara Gakuen had taken his entrance exam scores from his high school in Osaka and he didn’t need to worry about writing another exam this late in the year. Now it was just a matter of going to school and picking up where he left off. 

But as the teacher stood him in front of the class room to introduce him and he gazed into the eyes of his fellow classmate of 2-3 he noticed the distant look of students who were struggling to pick a side.

He wasn’t in Osaka anymore. And he certainly wasn’t in his old high school anymore. This place didn’t even seem real. It was as if he had stepped out of present day Japan and into the Sengoku period with feuding war lords claiming territory and power. 

Finally he picked up a pawn gingerly and popped it into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. His stomach flip flopped at the addition of food, but he figured he should probably try and eat something rather than just staring blankly at the food in front of him. As he chewed on a second prawn, he glanced around the classroom. Most of the students had disappeared, eating else where in the school no doubt, with friends in different classes or spying on the gorgeous upper class-men. A few groups of students remainder in the classroom, crowding around a few desks as they ate their lunches, joking with one another. Each group determinedly avoided glancing in his direction, forcing him to realize just how isolated he was in this new territory. 

After his eyes scanned passed a group of entirely girls and an obviously third year guy with a crazy ponytail and little regard for the school dress code, his gaze finally settled on two students sitting in the corner closest to the door. The taller of the two, a student he recognized as a member of his class, sat at the desk eating his own lunch quietly. His posture was perfect, the place setting in front of him impeccable. His uniform was crisp and clean. Underneath the jacket was a light blue t-shirt with a Japanese ivy pattern printed on the side, the only deviation from perfect Japanese student. His silver hair was swept forward slightly, hanging in his face, but it did not obstruct his violet eyes which stared intently at the older student standing in front of him. The older student had a mess of white hair which hung limply around what was visible his shallow face behind the glasses. His skin was sickly pale and his frame was visibly thin under the baggy uniform.

The two students were probably two of the most beautiful men Sakon had ever seen in his life. For a long moment, he stared slack jawed at them, watching the way they carried themselves with impeccable regal grace. 

“It was Hideyoshi’s desire for you!” he heard the older student hiss, his voice carrying across the classroom. The other student slowly finished chewing the piece of food he had just put in his mouth, then brought a handkerchief to his lips to wipe away any crumbs still lingering on his ghostly pale face. 

“Hanbei-Sempai, I don’t understand why you don’t just do it,” he growled. 

“You know very well why, Mitsunari.” Hanbei replied sharply, his voice raising slightly. Mitsunari just glared back at his upper class-man, until he noticed Sakon just behind Hanbei, staring. Sakon swallowed hard and quickly averted his gaze, returning it to his food. He heard the scrapping of the chair against the linoleum floor of the class room, and foot steps. Refusing to look up, Sakon continued to focus on his food, shoving three mouthfuls in all at once before he noticed a pair of polished, plain leather shoes on the floor directly in front of him. With full cheeks, Sakon lifted his head until his eyes finally settled on the face of his class-mate, the tall, skinny Mitsunari. 

“Why were you staring at me while I was eating?” he growled. Sakon swallowed his mouthful and tried to find his words. Nothing came out, instead he just opened and closed his mouth like a fish flopping on the beach. Mitsunari placed one hand on the desk and leaned in closer to Sakon. Barely an inch was between their noses. Sakon gazed helplessly into those startling violet eyes. “Did I stutter?” 

“I-I…I wasn’t staring at you…” Sakon finally choked out, he could feel colour rising in his cheeks. Most of the classroom around him had gone silent, but all he could hear was the rushing of blood in his ears and the pounding of his heart against his chest. 

“What was I doing just now?” 

“Eating…” Sakon squeaked. 

“And what were you doing?” 

“Staring…”

Mitsunari straightened up, stretching out to his full, daunting height. He raised his eyebrows as if to say “well there you go.” And walked away. 

“Don’t let me catch you doing it again,” he said, his back turned to Sakon as he walked back towards his seat. Sakon continued to face forward, his hands trembling too fiercely to properly hold his chop sticks. Placing them carefully on the desk in front of him, he tried to tame his racing heart. 

Behind him somewhere he heard a “tsk” and the sound of expensive shoes marching out of the classroom and down the hall. Try though he might, he couldn’t help but glance at Mitsunari one last time out of his peripheral vision, only to notice Hanbei had left. 

…

When the last bell had finally rung, and Sakon had done his share helping clean up the classroom, he bolted out the door as fast as he could. For the rest of the day, he had done his damnedest to avoid even glancing in Mitsunari’s direction, and yet he found himself so completely in-tuned with his class-mates location at all times. He couldn’t seem to get him off his mind. His pale skin, his ferocious violet eyes. Everything about him left Sakon wishing he could find out more about him. 

He walked from the school building, noting the shouting match on the field between the soccer and baseball clubs. At his old high school he had been on the baseball team, and as he walked passed the field he found himself longing to return to the game, but he knew only too well that it was too late in the season to join the team. With a sigh, he trudged on. He was just about to turn a corner when he heard voices. Right away he recognized the drawling voice of Mitsunari. He pressed himself against the brick wall of the school, praying to god he hadn’t been spotted yet. Frantically he looked around for another way off the campus without passing the mysteriously beautiful, yet bitter Mitsunari. 

“Do you even understand what you’ve done,” a second voice snapped. It was the sickly Hanbei again. “You could have jeopardized your entire campaign!” No answer came, but he assumed that Mitsunari must have shrugged or something because Hanbei continued. “Who is going to vote for a president who can’t even be civil to the new student?”

“I highly doubt anyone cares…”

“You’d be surprised what people at this school care about, Mitsunari.” Hanbei replied. “And you can damn well bet that Ieyasu has already given him a fucking gift basket!” 

“Ieyasu…” the word came out of Mitsunari’s mouth like it was a dirty swear word, as if he were spitting the words on the ground and stomping it into the dirt with his highly polished leather shoes. 

“You are going to make this right,” Hanbei finally said, as if he were waiting for the air to clear of Mitsunari’s hate. “In a very public fashion.”

“Hanbei-sempai!” Mitsunari protested. 

“Mitsunari! You want to do right by Hideyoshi-sempai don’t you? He left everything to you after he graduated. You were groomed for this position over the last year.” No reply. “You will make this right.”

“How?” Sakon could almost hear Hanbei’s smile from around the corner. 

Sakon’s eyes finally fell on a gate behind the field, which was now over run by the soccer team. He back tracked quietly so that Hanbei and Mitsunari wouldn’t notice him, or suspect that he had been eavesdropping. Finally, he managed to wander back around to the road he was supposed to be on and he wandered back home in the golden light of the setting sun. 

Letting himself into the small home he and his parents had moved into, he washed up and got ready for dinner. He made no comments about his day or what his new high school was like, not that his parents bothered to ask. Eating his meal in silence, he mulled over the thought that he had become a pawn in helping Mitsunari win the student president election. He should have felt upset about the whole situation, and yet he couldn’t seem to find a reason to be. He was too busy being completely entranced and intrigued by the sullen, bitter student president candidate. And try though he might, he couldn’t seem to get those cold violet eyes off his mind.


End file.
